


Ordinary

by YAJJ



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Confusion, Insanity, Insecurity, Memory, Memory Alteration, blegh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YAJJ/pseuds/YAJJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Hayner remembered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ordinary

Hayner was living a normal life.

He had been since the day he was born. He wasn’t an extraordinary person. Not to anyone else and, let’s be perfectly honest, not to Hayner. He had an ordinary mom, an ordinary dad. He had an ordinary little sister who thought he was absolutely yucky. He had ordinary friends—sorry Pence, Olette—and ordinary enemies. He went to an ordinary school with ordinary teachers and ordinary classmates. He lived in an ordinary house, on an ordinary street, in an ordinary neighborhood within an ordinary town. Hayner was, much to his own chagrin, the epitome of ordinary. There was nothing special about him.

Up until the year before last, right at the end of his summer vacation, when he met an extraordinary boy who cried at nothing and went on an extraordinary adventure saving extraordinary worlds. 

Even that had been but a few days of extraordinariness, connected by weeks of the dullest ordinariness that Hayner had ever experienced. 

And since then, that ordinariness had stayed, stretching on until it seemed that ‘ordinary’ would be the rest of Hayner’s sad life. 

Then, one day, the ordinariness… it vanished. 

It wasn’t so abrupt a vanish. In fact, it wasn’t so much vanished as it was forgotten about. The ordinary was forgotten as the impossible became possible. 

Because that one, suddenly not-so-ordinary day, Hayner remembered. 

The question, if Hayner was asked, wasn’t so much a what Hayner remembered, but a who. The question would go unanswered, because Hayner didn’t know who he remembered.

The first thing that he remembered was colors. Cobalt blue, wheaty yellow. Then shapes. Cobalt blue circles, wheaty yellow spikes. 

Eyes. They were eyes. Eyes and hair. A boy. 

The boy was one that, in the very back of his mind, way beyond the subconscious, Hayner knew. Hayner knew the boy, he knew the face. But he couldn’t recall a name. The most that he could remember was... black, and white. Darkness, and light. 

What a strange thing to remember. 

He walked his ordinary walk to school thinking thoughts of an extraordinary, nameless boy. And on that walk, he stopped and stared at a vacant lot that meant absolutely nothing to him, but apparently mattered to the nameless boy. 

This is where he used to live, said a voice that Hayner knew was his own, making sense of a place that Hayner couldn’t care about. 

Pence called him weird, Olette asked what was wrong, and Hayner had no reply for either of them. He should have reacted to Pence’s insult, but… he didn’t. 

Because he was weird. 

The nameless boy thought so, too.

Of course, Hayner had always thought the nameless boy was weird, too, so neither were so much an insult as an inside joke. 

Hayner walked the rest of his ordinary walk thinking that maybe he wasn’t so ordinary, maybe something really was wrong with him. 

Throughout the day, tidbits of the nameless boy came to him out of nowhere. In history class, a presentation shared with the nameless boy. In science, Hayner remembered that the subject was one of the boy’s favorites. 

In phy ed, he remembered being decimated as they played their weekly Struggle match. And for once, it wasn’t Seifer who defeated him, but this nameless, surprisingly sportsmanly boy. 

(The boy, he remembered, also defeated Seifer, and Seifer had been wholeheartedly unimpressed and considerably less sportsmanly than the boy had attempted to be to him.)

After phy ed, he had his lunch period, and they were offered bars of sea salt ice cream, as per the norm in their ordinary little town. As he sat his tray down across from Olette, who was next to Pence (the both of them eyed him like they were worried), he stared at the bar and asked simply, “did we know someone else who liked sea salt ice cream?”

Their worried looks intensified. Pence managed a chuckle and asked, “you don’t mean the entirety of Twilight Town, do you? Or did you not notice that it’s sort of popular around here?”

Hayner would have reached over to smack him, but he wasn’t in the mood. “No, someone… I don’t know. Gone.”

“Someone gone?” Olette asked. “You’re not making sense.”

“Sora’s kind of gone?” Pence offered helpfully. 

“No. Well—maybe. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking weird things all day. Ignore me.”

Still worried, they did as asked and left Hayner to his musings, until the middle of the lunch period. 

“...He had blond hair. And blue eyes. I know that we knew him, but I don’t know how.”

Olette and Pence had been enjoying their conversation of photography, but they both looked at him when he spoke again. 

“He liked to Struggle. And he was good. And… we used to skateboard together all the time. He was good at that, too.”

Olette shook her head. “Hayner, we don’t know anyone like that. You don’t mean Brian, do you? He’s got blond hair, and blue eyes. He skateboards. I think.”

Hayner looked over his shoulder, not remembering Brian but hoping that this was the boy that he remembered… 

...No. Brian had white-ish blond hair. He had light blue eyes. The nameless boy had wheaty hair and sea blue eyes. Brian wasn’t… deep enough. 

“That’s not him. He had hair like… like this!” He reached up and tried to push his hair into that weird mountain range of hair that Hayner remembered the nameless boy having, but he couldn’t make it work. He’d been trying to style his hair like his cousin for too long. 

“We don’t know anyone with hair like that,” Olette said. 

“But you were there too…!”

Pence and Olette shared a look, and Olette gathered her dishes, carrying it over to the buss station. Pence followed her. She returned and patted Hayner's head, and Hayner got the distinct impression that he was being belittled. "Well, when you're done playing make believe, we're going to class."

"—’Lette!!"

Olette stormed away, Pence hot on her heels, and Hayner groaned and leaned his forehead into his hand. "...Whoever you are, you'd better be worth Olette getting upset."

He went to class and took his normal spot, ignoring his friends (they were busy doing the same). His teacher actually asked if something was wrong, as he was normally talking loudly and wandering around the room long after the bell rang, but Hayner brushed her off with a "I've just got a lot on my mind".

She gave him a sad smile, clasped his shoulder, and said, "well, I'm here if you need to talk to anyone," and then went to start the class.

He had one more class after that one, and at least as many memories as before returned in those two periods. Scenes, words, faces returned to him like he was suddenly recalling a movie. All of it felt so fake, and yet so real that it was impossible to just brush off. 

Olette stopped being upset by the time the final bell rang, and she and Pence walked home with him, shooting worried glances the entire time. He had tried to bring his own piece into the conversation, but his mind was busy with yet more returning memories of things that had never happened and a boy that he never knew, that he was no longer sure where the memories ended and the real world began. 

They dropped off Pence after a small amount of time in front of that vacant lot, and Olette gave him a kiss on the cheek and a "call me if you need anything" in front of her place. Hayner was left to walk the rest of his despicably ordinary walk alone.

Like most houses on his block, Hayner had a tiny, postage stamp front yard that took about ten minutes to mow. It was surrounded by a white picket fence that reached up to his waist—the effect, he supposed—and a just-as-high shrub on his neighbor's side. At the far end of the yard was their ordinary mailbox. 

And on that ordinary mailbox, resting beside their ordinary fence in an ordinary yard on an ordinary street in an ordinary town, there sat an extraordinary girl.

Hayner didn't know what was extraordinary, but when he saw her, the memories stopped. She was small, probably about Kairi's size now that he thought about it. She had pale blond hair and cobalt blue eyes, and skin that said she was never out in the sun. She was wearing a white, spaghetti-strapped dress with a frilly hem at the bottom (if Hayner wasn't so busy being confused by the rest of the day, he probably would have noticed that she had nice legs) and had white sandals on. A sketchbook sat in her lap. And if Hayner wasn’t completely mistaken (and he desperately hoped he was), this girl was see-through.

The girl smiled at him and kicked her feet. For a moment, he worried for the state of the mailbox, and of what would happen to the girl because he doubted it would be able to hold her weight for long, but the mailbox didn't seem to mind her being there. 

For an extra long moment, Hayner and the extraordinary girl stared at one another. Then, she opened her mouth and said one small thing. "His name is Roxas."

Hayner blinked. That was probably the last thing he was expecting her to say. "...What?"

The girl's smile broadened, and she looked to be amused at him. "The boy that you're remembering," she said as if it was entirely obvious, "his name is Roxas."

That made less sense the second time around. How could she know who he was or was not remembering? "I don't know what you're talking about."

The girl laughed. "Of course not. Don't worry, Hayner. You're not crazy."

“I’m not crazy!” Hayner snapped, which somehow made the girl laugh again. How was this funny?

“I know,” said the girl after she calmed, her smile not leaving her face. “I know you’re not crazy. You’re getting memories of a boy that was never there, aren’t you?”

Hayner set his chin and crossed his arms, glaring at the grass beneath his feet. “How do you know about that? Are you one of Olette’s friends? Did she tell you?”

“No, no. Of course not. Does that sound like something that Olette would do?” The girl waited for an answer, but when Hayner said nothing, that seemed to answer her question. “No. I’m making you have those memories, Hayner.”

This was insane. As insane as Sora’s story had been! Which… made it way too possible. “...How?”

The girl slipped off of the mailbox. There wasn’t a dent left on it, which gave Hayner the impression that she wasn’t really there at all… but she’d said he wasn’t crazy! 

Then again, isn’t that just the sort of thing a hallucination would say?

“I’m a witch, with power over the memories of Sora, and the people who are important to him. My name is Naminé."

Hayner felt a little better putting a name to the face. Naminé brushed off the front of her dress. 

“What do you mean, the people who are important to him? I’m not important to Sora. I only knew him for a little while. He hasn’t come to see us… in a long time.”

“You may have known Sora for only a couple days, but you’ve known Roxas for much longer than that.”

Hayner’s eyes narrowed at this extraordinary girl. “Well then why don’t I remember him?” he said lowly. This was all getting suspicious, and he wasn’t much a fan of that.

Naminé sighed and shook her head. She flipped into her notebook and turned the pages until she found the one that she was looking for. She turned the book to face him. There on the page, in a child’s crayon art style, were two boys. One looked like he was wearing Sora’s clothes, and the other was dressed completely in black with a jet of yellow hair spiking upward. “Roxas had to go back to Sora. It was easier if everyone forgot about him.”

Hayner took the sketchbook, looking at the figure. The thing was that he could see the boy from his memories. He watched the boy in black turn back to him, suddenly his clothes a lot less black, as Young Hayner grabbed his wrist and said “wait… you’ll get hurt.”

“...Why?”

Naminé sighed again, taking her sketchbook back. "Do you know what a Nobody is?"

"That's... what Sora was going to fight."

Naminé nodded. "Yes. That's what Roxas was."

"Sora was going to fight... this Roxas person?"

Naminé quickly shook her head. "No. Roxas had been taken into Sora long before that. Nobodies are a special race of people; the bi-products of when a person gets their heart stolen. Roxas is Sora’s Nobody. He spent a long time in the Organization, decided that he didn’t like what they were doing, and got himself out. Some… stuff happened, and he ended up in the Digital Twilight Town with memories of a completely different life. What you’re remembering are the Digital Hayner’s memories of that life. The entire Digital Twilight Town was a very elaborate scheme.”

Hayner scrubbed a hand through his hair. He was almost wishing for the ordinary back. “Yeah, I guess so. I get all that—I think. But why was only I remembering him? Why not Pence and Olette?”

Naminé flicked the coil of her sketchbook. “Out of everyone in the Digital Twilight Town, Digital Hayner was Digital Roxas’ best friend. They did everything together—they even got sick together. I thought he would feel better to have a friend. I’ll work on Pence and Olette later. I just thought you had the right to know."

"Oh." Hayner supposed that almost made sense. Maybe.

Naminé laughed a little again. "It's okay if you're not getting it. It's all very confusing."

"Yeah, it is. Why am I remembering all this now?"

"Sora and Kairi have found a way to get us out. The Nobodies. They’re very kind in that way. They want us to be our own people just as much as they are. But… Roxas is afraid to come out, and just not be remembered again. Axel has Isa back, so he seems to think that those two will spend all their time together. He won’t come out just to be hurt again.”

Hayner nodded. That was… understandable. “But… you said ‘us’. ‘Sora and Kairi found a way to get us out’.”

“Yes,” Naminé said, her fingertips running over the coil of her notebook again. “I’m a Nobody, too, Hayner. Which, I’m sure, at least kind of explains this.” She put out her arm so that Hayner could see right through it into the neighbor’s yard. “I haven’t been fully… realized, I suppose. Kairi’s still working on it. But yes, I am Kairi’s Nobody.”

“You don’t look like someone that Sora would fight.”

Naminé chuckled a little. “No, I hope not. I was on Sora’s side. So is Roxas.”

“Oh.” Hayner suddenly thought of a question he had wanted to ask: the source of this ridiculous mess. “So, why me? Why was I chosen as Roxas’ best friend? I mean, if this entire thing was supposed to be made up, it could have been anyone from any dinky little town. Why me?”

“We chose Twilight Town because it was easily available, and there was a secluded place outside of town where all of the operations could be conducted.”

“The Mansion,” Hayner mumbled in some sort of sudden realization.

“Right. The mansion. We also chose Twilight Town because it’s where Roxas was already most comfortable, and felt safest, so it would ease the transition from real to digital. And we chose you… because he already knew you.”

“But—I never knew him!” Hayner said. “You said so yourself!”

“Right. You never knew this Roxas.” Naminé flipped back into her sketchbook and showed him a picture of neutral colors and blond hair. “This was the Digital Twilight Town Roxas that you never knew. But this Roxas…” She flipped to a page of a black cloak topped by blond hair again, with a much taller black cloak with red hair and another, smaller black cloak with equally black hair on either side of him. “This Roxas, you knew. Not for very long, but he saw you often enough. This Roxas wanted so badly to be away from the Organization, that he could imagine himself with the three of you. We just… made it possible.”

Somewhere in the middle of this explanation, Hayner was lost to her. When she finished, waiting for his reaction, he put his hands out in front of him, as if to push her as far from him as possible. “No. No no no no no no no no no. You’re crazy, this is crazy. You aren’t even here. Have I been talking to air? No no no, I’m done, I’m going inside.” He was going straight to his mother and was going to ask her to set him up in an asylum because the only answer to all of the day’s madness was that he’d lost his mind. He turned back toward his front door, ‘Mom’ already on his lips. 

“Sora cried when he left you guys that first time, why do you think that is?!” Naminé demanded, though she moved no closer. Hayner had been just about to tear the door open, but he didn’t. He waited. “Why do you think he cried?”

“I don’t know!” Hayner snapped, turning back to her for a moment. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just super emotional or something! I didn’t know him long enough!”

“So why was he crying, Hayner?!” Naminé raised her voice and did stride forward, grabbing his arm. Hayner was surprised to feel her hand on his arm. “Sora didn’t even cry when he was thrown into a whole other world after his world was destroyed. He didn’t even cry when he and Kairi were separated. So why would he cry when he left you?”

“I DON’T KNOW!!” Hayner yelled, abandoning the door. He turned on her entirely. 

Naminé took her arm back, her features softening. “I’m not lying, Hayner, and neither of us are crazy. I know that it sounds… farfetched, but you have to believe me. I just want to do right by him again.”

“Do right by him again…? What do you mean?”

Naminé shook her head solemnly. “A lot of what he experienced—a lot of the pain he went through, and all of what’s happening now, is my fault.”

“How?” Hayner demanded, looking her right in the eyes. Pain was written all across her face, like whatever she was remembering was the very worst that she could remember. 

“I caused the events that led to his downfall. If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be having fun with Axel, he might even have met and come to like Sora. Because of me, he didn’t get the chance to do either of those. Instead, he had to die.”

Hayner zipped his mouth closed at the response, looking away from her. “...Oh.”

Naminé nodded quietly. “Yeah. I need to make it up to him, Hayner. You’re the one who can help me the best. You don’t have to do a lot. Just let me help you remember.”

Hayner didn’t respond, licking his lips nervously. This… this was insane. Insane! He shook his head frantically. “You’re… you’re all crazy.”

Naminé’s face fell. She looked like she was going to protest again, but she didn’t. “...Oh. I understand. I’m sorry to have bothered you, then. When you wake up tomorrow, you won’t remember that you remembered those memories. Fair?”

“Fair,” he said, his throat a little dry. Rejecting those memories had sounded like a good idea, but he hadn’t realized that would mean taking away everything that he’d already remembered… that didn’t seem right. 

Whomever this Roxas kid was, Naminé wanted him remembered. Roxas wanted him remembered. And if he was completely honest, Hayner wanted him remembered, too.  
Naminé had turned away from him and was heading away from his home, her head drooping. She looked so dejected… 

Figment of his imagination or not, hallucination or not, she really wanted this kid remembered. Could Hayner take that away from her?

“Wait, Naminé—” he said, already regretting it. But he forced that regret back. This is what he had asked for. He wanted this… and he found himself being completely honest with himself. He wanted those memories. He wanted the new ones, and the old ones. He wanted to get to know this Roxas kid. He wanted him for a best friend. 

Naminé stopped and glanced back at him, curious. She probably thought for certain that he was just going to attack her some more. 

“Listen,” he said instead. “This whole day has been crazy. From the minute that I woke up, to right now, I thought that I’ve been crazy. If I’m crazy, and this is crazy, and you’re all crazy, well then why not be crazy together?”

Naminé’s mouth dropped open and she turned to him entirely. She didn’t say anything, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“Don’t take those memories away. You can’t do that to me, or to Roxas, or to you. That’s not fair to any of us.”

Naminé’s mouth stayed dropped open for a while. She tried to blubber out words, but nothing was coming to her. After a bit, she finally managed, “y-you want to remember?”

Hayner nodded. “I want to remember. I mean, this Roxas kid doesn’t seem all bad. If remembering him will draw him out, then I don’t see why not. He’s just kinda shy.”

Naminé squeaked with delight and covered her mouth with her hands, and for a moment Hayner wondered how she could possibly be a Nobody. Tears filled her eyes, and she suddenly shrieked, bounced forward, and wrapped Hayner up in a hug. “Oh my god, Hayner, oh my god! You are… oh my god you don’t even actually know him you’re such a great friend Hayner! You’re going to love him. I promise. He’s the best. Thank you so much, Hayner, thank you.” She released him and clasped his hands. “You’re lovely. You’re the best. Thank you.”

“What do I need to do?” asked Hayner as soon as he recovered from the force of nature that was Naminé. 

“Nothing. Although it might be good of you to introduce Olette and Pence to those memories as well. When they met the first time. All that important stuff.”

“Are they going to remember, too?” Good, so he wouldn’t be the only crazy person. 

“I’m going to return all of your memories, first. Then Olette’s, then Pence’s. Help them through it, please. The longer it takes to introduce their memories, the longer it’ll take for Roxas to come out.”

Hayner nodded quickly. She honestly didn’t even have to ask. “I will. Will Roxas come here when he comes out?” 

“Most likely,” Naminé assured with a little smile. “He felt safest in Twilight Town. Even in the Organization, he always met up there with his friends.” She pointed toward the Clocktower. A flash of a memory—not created by Naminé, but one that Hayner remembered remembering earlier in the day—came to him; of him, Olette, Pence, and Roxas chattering, eating sea salt ice cream on top of that clocktower, celebrating the last day of school and discussing plans for summer break.

That must have been, he thought, the year that Roxas disappeared. 

“I remember going up there,” he said, halfway to himself, halfway to Naminé. “I remember… Roxas had just won the Struggle Tournament. He had the Champion Belt—he let me wear it. I don’t think I took ‘no’ for an answer, so he didn’t have a choice—and the trophy. He broke off the four jewels and gave one to each of us. He even split the prize money between all four of us.”

Naminé smiled wider, her eyes twinkling. “You miss him.”

Hayner bit his cheek, and then nodded. “Somehow.”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back, soon. You’ll get to be good friends again. For real this time. I promise.” 

Hayner nodded again, once, firmly. That much, he knew, was true. “Us, him, and you too, Naminé. Will you come here?”

Naminé stared at him for a second, and then smiled, her eyes soft. “If I’ve got nowhere to go, I certainly will. If you’ll have me.”

Hayner nodded again, putting out his arm like muscle memory said he used to do. Naminé giggled and reached her arm up as well, bopping their fists together. “Sure we will.”

\----------------

Two years passed since Hayner first remembered. They had been ordinary. He never did meet that inordinary girl Naminé in that time, nor did he meet her inordinary friend. 

Two years passed, and Hayner graduated high school. Olette and Pence graduated with him. They threw a party. Hayner stayed in town, choosing to go to the community college, and Pence and Olette went to universities out of state. 

Hayner walked his ordinary walk back home one day, past the empty lot (that had since become not empty and he felt so betrayed, wasn’t Roxas’ place supposed to stay Roxas’ place forever?). The overtakers of the lot were apparently moving in. At least, there was a moving van parked outside. A man stood outside of the truck, holding the hand of his little daughter. 

In front of the house, leaning on the brick fence, was a boy. He was probably Hayner’s age, dressed neutrally, and had messy blond hair. He was staring up at the house, a blond woman at his side. 

“How does it look?” asked the woman. The two of them were speaking quietly, but Hayner was sneaking closer because he wanted to know who had betrayed his memories. 

“Just the same,” said the boy, and Hayner knew that voice, somehow he knew it. “This is way too much.”

The woman kissed his head, drawing a girlish giggle from somewhere behind them. A girl—the same age as this strange boy—came out from behind the truck, and Hayner’s eyes widened because he knew that he knew that girl. 

“Naminé…?”

The girl turned on him, as did the boy and the woman. Naminé shrieked, dropped the bag that she was holding, and dove for Hayner, trapping him in a hug. “HAYNER!!” she wailed, leaning up to kiss his cheek a couple of times. She grabbed his arms and shook him a little, exclaiming his name once more. “Hayner! It’s you! Hi!”

“Hi…?” Hayner muttered, intensely confused. What was she doing here? 

Naminé laughed and kissed his cheek again. “Thanks, Hayner. Look at this!” She threw her arm out to the house, and he looked up at it. 

“Yeah, I’ve been watching it go up. But what’s going on? I’m confused.”

“We’re moving into our new house, I hope that’s not a problem,” the man grumbled. The little girl at his feet giggled. 

“No, I—what? Moving? You live here now?”

Naminé nodded firmly. “You said you wanted me to come to Twilight Town. Didn’t you? It just took some time, is all. Oh!” Naminé took Hayner’s hand and dragged him toward the brick fence and the boy, who eyed him most curiously and uncomfortably. 

It took Hayner an extra moment, probably because he’d never seen him in real life before, only in fake memories, but this, he realized, was Roxas. Roxas shifted a little closer to the woman beside him, and Hayner got the distinct feeling that he thought he was going to be abandoned again. 

Hayner looked the boy over, dropping Naminé’s hand. Naminé watched with a great big grin, and looked back at the man, who smiled pleasantly. Roxas was wearing the same sort of jacket that Hayner remembered him wearing. The same cross was attached to the zip of his undershirt. He was wearing tennis shoes and two-tone pants. 

This could only be Roxas. 

Hayner smirked and put his arm out in greeting, extending the forearm upward in a familiar way that would only be familiar to the digital Roxas and Hayner of before. “Nice jacket, dork.”

Roxas’ nervous expression brightened, a smirk replacing his mouth. He set his own arm against Hayner’s in a painfully familiar fashion, but it was painful in a good way, somehow. Hayner remembered Roxas. Roxas remembered Hayner. This was a start. “Nice hair, doofus.”

Hayner laughed and extended his other hand around Roxas. Roxas thankfully copied him, and Hayner gave his best friend a relieved, all too telling hug.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, so I'll keep writing! Even if you only sort of liked it! Please I'm desperate.


End file.
